


Hunting in a Walmart

by Burnadette_dpdl, Gairid



Category: Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Armand being a bully, Blood, Blood Drinking, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Smut, Multi, Non-Consensual Violence, Violence, sorry I needed an antagonist!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9412598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burnadette_dpdl/pseuds/Burnadette_dpdl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gairid/pseuds/Gairid
Summary: Drawing near to the holiday season, Lestat, Louis, Daniel, and Armand go to a closed big box store to play with the goods. Goods get played with, in more ways than one.***(Louis, 2:35am)The pain seared through my entire leg, sharpened and focused itself at the wound site, and as Daniel had aptly pointed out, it hurt no less just because I am a vampire. The blood still trickled out, but was not the gush it had been at the moment of impact, and the throbbing threatened my sanity enough to draw moans, but I kept my teeth shut; at least I had that much dignity. Still, ugly sounds escaped.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a belated fic gift to thelionscrimsonclaws (tumblr) who had requested _“A drabble… involving something rather intimate for the holidays between myself and another soul I am close to, perhaps?”_
> 
> Go by the "time stamps" in parenthesis for the order, the first one is the only one that occurs out of chronological order ;]
> 
> Also, fair warning, Armand is /extra/ bully-ish here.

**(Louis, 2:35am)**

The pain seared through my entire leg, sharpened and focused itself at the wound site, and as Daniel had aptly pointed out, it hurt no less just because I am a vampire. The blood still trickled out, but was not the gush it had been at the moment of impact, and the throbbing threatened my sanity enough to draw moans, but I kept my teeth shut; at least I had that much dignity. Still, ugly sounds escaped.

It had been mere minutes ago when I was unpierced, intact... there had been some argument about whether _“an eye for an eye”_ applied, and I hadn’t had much of a chance to engage with it before I was shot like an unsuspecting buck in a forest. By someone who had once claimed to love me, someone who had once held my body tenderly against his own, someone who had drawn passion from it.

I shut my eyes tightly and tried to imagine what a sunrise might look like through the opening in the tent in which I lay supine, anything to soothe my mind. I could envision a lavender sky with rosy wisps of clouds skimming gently along, the warmth of the rising sun just tickling at my feet, which were still on the edge of the unzipped tent entrance, blood trailing behind them. 

**(Lestat, 1:15am)**

Why had we broken into one of these widely-despised - but still widely-frequented - “big box” stores just a month before the holidays? It was something Daniel and I do from time to time, go in to explore the products to our own thorough inspection and satisfaction without the nonsense of salespeople or other shoppers finding us bizarre for squirting at each other’s fangs with a new dental hygiene water device, or stripping and dressing up in any of the more atrocious neon-colored tracksuits. And by the way, it’s endlessly hilarious to me that one can purchase such garments for $15 at one of these stores, when similar things are sold, with a designer name in a garishly large font slapped across the chest, for $1,500 to the celebrity elite.

We could purchase a load of these various items and try them at home, of course, but the confines of a closed store is a liminal space where one can be at the threshold of greater discovery (and yes, we typically make a huge mess and I do pay for it later through an anonymous donation). We always have a good time.

On this night, Armand had wanted to tag along, so I invited Louis as well, because I felt he might enjoy the experience. He came with a lot of resistance, citing that “Someone has to be the ‘adult’ on this field trip,” but whatever, not important, the fact is, he came and he found himself enjoying the Gardening department far more than he’s willing to admit.

**(Louis, 2:10am)**

I heard them talking and laughing in the distant aisles, three other roaming creatures of the night inspecting the objects of the creatures of the day. Several displays had already been knocked over, but the plants had remained unharmed, a less interesting department for the others.

I was impressed by the quality of the azaleas, hydrangeas, petunias, and even little flowering bonsai trees, all of which appeared to be in good health despite living an unnatural portion of their lives indoors. There was a small sample garden with a koi pond at this store, so I pulled off my boots to feel the grass beneath my feet. Going out on a little adventure was not such a bad thing.

**(Lestat, 2:30am)**

Armand was probably in Kitchen Appliances, by the sound of what might have been a blender spinning its blades some distance away. Daniel was by himself on one of these modern skateboards with only two wheels, swiveling his hips to move forward, making some progress across the wide space between aisles. I fingered the trigger on the crossbow in my hands, and followed him through the mounted scope’s crosshairs, drew a bead on him to practice my aim. Had I ever fired one of these before? I doubted it, and even if I had, the scope hadn’t existed to help my mortal vision then, why, I could make out the watch he wore on his wrist… While I considered all of that, the weapon went off in my hand and Daniel cried out. _Merde!_

The crossbow clattered to the floor as I rushed to him without even touching the ground.

“Oh god, Lestat, _what the actual fuck?!”_ Daniel said, more angry than hurt, clutching his arm, as I’d merely nicked a small bit of flesh from his forearm; the arrow had had its taste of him and then continued on to hit a white bicycle tire, which was deflating with a whimpering sound.

“Daniel, I’m so sorry, that was a complete accident, you know I’d never-”

“-didn’t even _DO_ anything to you…”

“I know, I’m sorry, really,”

“-doesn’t hurt any less just because I’m a _vampire_ …” He was sniffling a little, but not actually crying, he put the wound in his mouth like a mortal might, tonguing the blood up sloppily, and when I took his forearm down from his face, the wound was already closing. The scent of blood in the air was palpable, and a few splatters decorated the white linoleum tile.

“Well well, hey man, nice shot.” Armand had appeared beside us with the barest but slimiest smile he could display and patted my shoulder. I shook him off and he leaned against a Star Wars display, just a modern, if exceptionally clear-skinned, teenager.

“I didn’t do it on purpose…” I was sulking a little, and Louis had come over to investigate the commotion.

“It wasn’t a mortally wounding shot, though,” Armand said, almost disappointed, really too casual for a maker about his fledgling.

“I told you it was an accident, emphasis on the ‘accident’ part of it, don’t critique me!” I said. Louis, meanwhile, was getting caught up by Daniel and shooting me those accusatory glances of his.

“It’s fine, Armand, I’m good. See?” Daniel held out his arm, perfectly whole.

“I see that you’re fine, but the principle remains… ‘an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’ ”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” I said, folding my arms and leaning back against a Frozen display opposite him.

“You shot my fledgling, _I get to shoot yours._ Obviously.”

“Armand! That is completely, how could you even-?” I huffed. “That’s ridiculous.” I was going to start laughing. He just stood there and gave me a slow blink.

“You’re not shooting Louis with a crossbow, _Ginger Spice_. So you can get that out of your pretty little head right now.”

He remained motionless. We had some more heated debate which escalated but ultimately went nowhere so I threw up my hands, effectively ending the conversation, and went over to Daniel. Had to check and see if I needed to do any more damage control, exacting his promise that when Marius heard about this, that it was clear how it had happened, and all that. Daniel agreed that Armand was overreacting, I was fairly well relieved.

A stifled cry rang out across the store, louder than Daniel’s had been, and I heard that ugly but familiar sound of a body crumple to the floor. It was Louis, there was no mistake, I could smell his fresh blood before I flew over the two aisles to find him dragging himself on the ground in Camping.

“Armand you insensitive bastard, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” I knelt by my fledgling, his upper left thigh run completely through with an arrow! It stuck there stubbornly, not allowing him to lay his leg down, and every time it was jostled in the slightest he let out a fresh yelp. I fingered it, trying to restrain myself from leaping at Armand and taking revenge immediately with claws and teeth.

“What do you think, Lestat, is that a 10 pointer or a 12?” Armand was saying, slinging the crossbow around to his back by the strap and making his way slowly over to his victim.

“Oh god, Lestat, I’m so sorry, I had no idea he’d…”

“Do me a favor and shut the fuck up Daniel.” I said without having to glance at him to know he stood there chewing on his lower lip beside Armand, unsure whether to kneel beside me and try to help or not.

“I asked you a question, Lestat.” Armand said, standing above our little pieta where I held Louis’ head and shoulders up a little. He watched us like he was studying roadkill.

“And I asked you one first! You had no right to shoot-”

“Is that a _10 pointer_ or a _12?”_

The sheer _audacity_ ... the sass in the way he swung his hips a little as he stood there, filled with pride, _filled with it,_ the impertinence, the way he was smiling without smiling, that cold and indifferent, _obnoxious-_

“It _hurts,_ ” Louis groaned, wrenched himself forward, using my shoulders as leverage, tried to see the injury, and then fell back, and I caught him, whispered to him some comforting shit and to be still. I saw his fingers twitching around the shaft of the arrow with bloodied fingertips. His jeans were soaked with blood around the wound and my temper, already cooling in my concern for Louis, shot back up to seething rage . I shot a glance back up at Armand. _You see what you did to him?!_ I sent him, rather than lower myself to saying so out loud. _Do you see??_

I was utterly torn between helping my beloved and assaulting Armand, could not do both at once, so I did neither. Just held back, as much as it burned to do so _but hold back I did_ , because _diplomacy_ , but more because Louis was writhing in pain, half-crawling and half-dragging himself out of my arms and into a tacky display tent a few feet away, to get out of the harsh glare of the lights, and, probably, his hunter’s view. A slick red trail followed him. I took a deep breath and sat back on my heels for a moment.

“Armand, you and I are going to table this fight for later because I have an arrow to remove from my fledgling. Mark my words though, this is far from over. Enjoy your reflection as it is now because I’m going to rearrange your goddamn face like a motherfucking Picasso.”

“Yes, I thought so, he’s just a 10 pointer, I’m sure.” He smirked.

I was speechless but Daniel exploded: “He doesn’t have _antlers_ so you can’t award any points at all!” He grabbed Armand by the hand and pulled him away, cursing under his breath.

“Louis is picturing a sunrise, just so you know. _Don’t go into the light, Carol Anne!”_ Armand cried back at us as Daniel dragged him out of the store.

**(Lestat, 2:37am)**

I crawled in after Louis and didn’t bother to zip the ‘door’ shut behind me. The space was just large enough for the two of us, with sleeping bags already laid out, a warm red glow cast by the light through the fabric of the walls. Under other circumstances, I might have even felt cozy here. Louis was diagonally across one of the sleeping bags, so I took the other and rolled it into a support for his head.

“Louis, please, talk to me… what do we say when we’re shot?” I said, wanting him to open his eyes. In pursuit of our nightly meal, there are times when we do get shot or knifed, and it’s never pleasant. When I see weapons I usually take the offensive and get them out of the equation fast. I moved towards his splayed legs and moved in between, to draw close to the wounded thigh. I shifted his hips closer and got my fingernails near the torn area of his jeans where the arrow stuck out, gingerly seeking some purchase on it.

“We say…” He began. “Yes? What do we say?” I coaxed him as I tore the soft fabric open, a pleasing _scr-iiiiiiitch!_ sound as it revealed his bare flesh. Enjoying the act, I may have torn a bit further than necessary and noted that, as per his usual custom, he had declined to wear anything under his jeans.

“That it’s just…” he gasped as I knocked the arrow accidentally with my knuckles. “It’s just a flesh wound.” He managed.

“Very good, yes, that’s all it is… no problem at all, _mon coeur_ …” I leaned down and nuzzled his face, placed a chaste kiss on his lips. His eyes opened with some effort, and a rush of gladness flooded me, this must be something like what the prince must have felt when he awakened Sleeping Beauty. In this tinted light, his green eyes were dark sparkling ruby.

I moved to inspect the wound, his flesh was bleeding just a little around the arrow’s narrow black shaft, the soft flesh pulsing, trying to close around it. The scent of his blood wafted around us in the small space, softening the artificial stink of the polyester, cleaning products, and the collected dust. I wanted to lick at the wound while the arrow was lodged there, feel that flesh tighten around it, maybe slide my tongue down beside the shaft to feel that tightness. Instead, I focused my efforts on snapping the arrowhead off the other side as gently as possible, so I might pull the shaft up and out without further damage.

**(Louis, 2:42am)**

It felt like a womb, this tent, and I reached out a hand to the flexible wall as Lestat busied himself with the arrow.

I felt such tenderness from him, how careful he was being as he handled my thigh, his blonde hair falling in his face so that he absently reached up to tuck it behind his ear… A little gesture he does when clearing his face for a kiss, too… and even though we had been in such intimate physical positions before, many a time, this was somehow very different. He had knelt before me and pulled my hips fully in his lap, at an angle so that he could have the best access to my thigh, and his gentle touches as he worked on the arrow heightened this sense of intimacy.

His fingers found all of my exposed flesh, gently massaging at it to get the arrow at the angle he needed it. His nails scraped along that sensitive skin, sending shivers through my body. After some awkward fumbling and a little more pain, the arrow was fully removed and dangled before me like a trophy catch. He bent down to tongue at the wound on both sides as it closed, and I felt his fingernails again prodding at the flesh as it tightened and healed. There was a zinging sensation that I liked more than I might admit to him.

“You don’t need to do that, it’s not a snake bite...” I said, more than a little ignited by his ministrations.

“Might as well be, with that little pit viper involved,” he muttered. “Better safe than sorry.” He smiled up at me, a devilish glint in his eye. “We are in the camping section, after all. Could be other venomous creatures around…”

**(Lestat, 2:50am)**

Something in Louis’s voice drove Armand and my nebulous plans for revenge completely out of my head. I looked up at him to deliver another of my famously lame double entendres but it died on my lips.

“Does it still hurt?” I said, tearing my eyes from his face to examine the wound on the top of his thigh. The bleeding had slowed, only sluggishly seeping from the wound. From experience I knew that when we suffered deeper wounds like this (a goddamn through and through! Goddamnit, Armand..) we tended to heal from the inside out and though an instantaneous healing would be a nice thing, it doesn’t actually work that way. The slow bleed was mesmerizing, the scent completely intoxicating.

“Not quite so much,” he said a bit breathlessly and I realized then that I’d pushed the pad of my forefinger into the wound at the back of his thigh, just beneath the curve of his right buttock. The bolt had somehow driven in on an upward angle and I had a sudden clear vision of Armand calling softly to Louis and dropping to one knee, releasing the bolt as Louis turned. As infuriating as that vision was, the insistent pressure of Louis’s knitting flesh against my finger shredded my anger and inflamed my lust. I turned my finger just slightly and he made a sound between a gasp and an inviting moan.

I refrained from looking up at him. “I’m sorry, Louis,” I said softly, “Didn’t mean to make it worse.”

“It’s not as bad, “ he said, still near breathless.”Is it still bleeding?”

“A little.” I touched my tongue to the wound and took a delicate taste. Electric zing of blood and sweeter still, it was Louis’s essence.

He’d been lying back, supporting himself on his elbows but when I leaned to suckle the wound he gave up and lowered himself backward with a sigh. “Might be a good idea to remove what you’ve left of my jeans, Lestat. It’s...constrictive.”

He said this in a reasonable and contained voice and I thought, _ah, yes, now the game...the game is well and truly on._ _Look at this_ , I thought. Blood-streaked thigh exposed by the hasty tear I’d made. “Surely you know how it’s done,” he continued dreamily. “Just shred the rest.” he sounded intoxicated and I said so even as I went about discarding his jeans with hands that trembled in anticipation.

“I’ve lost a good deal of blood,” he said, lifting his hips, using his uninjured right leg so I could divest him of the torn and bloodied jeans. He hissed when his legs touched the cold, tiled floor. I got to my feet, crouched beneath the low roof of the tent so I could rearrange the sleeping bags more comfortably. He laughed a little. “Really, Lestat, there are easier and much less painful ways for you to have your way with me.” He nodded to my own jeans and I obligingly removed them. I sat down and helped him to maneuver himself onto my lap.

Once he’d settled atop my thighs he clasped his arms loosely about my neck and leaned forward with a shuddery sigh. Outside the tent, I heard the sounds of an argument, far away and unimportant, muted further when Louis sank his fangs into my neck. He locked on firmly and began to draw strongly from me; I held him tightly, stroking his hair and listened to the low, contented hum issuing from his chest.

He did not drink for long, presumably having other things on his mind. All that was to be seen on his upper thigh was a small, bright pink dimple and further exploration under his leg told me he was nearly healed. “Just there, Lestat,” he said, indicating the unconscious hold I’d taken on his thighs just below his delectable ass. He leaned forward to deliver one of his lingering, searing kisses. He pulled back a little. “What are you waiting for? We haven’t got a whole lot of time left and I would rather not be discovered by the greeters unconscious and _in situ.”_

“Bossy bottom,” I muttered to his amusement, I lifted him easily and he settled, growling low in his chest as he slowly impaled himself on me; I lost any power of speech at around that point. From that point on, things became a bit of a red blur and when I came to myself, it was with Louis twined around me and the sleeping bags and ruined tent all in a tangle around us. Above I could see the security lights on the ceiling.

“Oh, you’re still here,” Louis said. _Of course I am!_ I thought, but when I twisted my head to look at him, he was not looking back at me, but at Daniel and Armand, standing above us.

“Way to turn the sporting goods department into a disaster area,” Daniel said mildly. “I disabled the cameras, by the way. There are any number of ways you might both thank me for that.” Armand poked a sharp elbow into his ribs.

“You might start with cleaning up the blood Armand so blithely thought to spill from my leg,” Louis said pointedly, standing up disentangling himself from the remains of the tent. He glared at Armand. It was Daniel’s turn to employ the elbow-to-the-ribs; Armand had an avid eye on Louis’s naked lower half.

“Good idea,” I said, standing and casting about for my jeans. Louis comically picked up a handful of shreds that were his jeans and shrugged, tossing them back into the tent wreckage.

“I’ll go get something to put on,” he said, brushing past them with a satisfying twitch in his hips. He made his way over to the athletic wear section and found a pair of yoga pants and slipped them on.

“Those are for _women_ , you know…” Armand said, as he loudly broke out a trash bag and began to shove the tent wreckage into it.

“Just because something has a streak of pink on it does not prevent any non-female person from wearing it, as you can clearly see,” said Louis, spreading his hands and positively _strutting_ back to us. The pants were black and tight, as if painted onto his long legs, and the thin pink line down the outside of each leg emphasized how sleek he was. _Good god, could I make it back to the flat without ravaging him again?_ I sighed, forcing myself to focus on the cleanup efforts. I swear he does this just to test me. He shot me a little smirk, as if he could truly read my thoughts.

We had the aisle cleaned in minutes, no trace of blood or tent, and all these materials left to burn merrily away in the dumpster out back. Louis had stood there and watched the flames with me, his hand snaking up the back of my shirt. “Well, that was quite an adventure,” he said, placing a kiss on my cheek.

“It always is, that store is full of surprises. Are you saying you’ll come out with us again some night?” I said, squeezing him closer.

“If I’m feeling up for an adventure… and as long as you’re there to field dress me,” he said, nuzzling his head under my chin. “I can see why you become ‘spellbound’ there. Many things to discover.”

“Will you stop teasing me about it then?”

“Never.”

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to @Rebness for touchups and beta-reading throughout the process; and @Gairid for writing some of the ending for me when I got stuck, could not have done this piece without you two!


End file.
